Page 78 of Jagged Little Pieces

I sink into the dream he wants us to share. The truth is I don’t feel healthy. From the moment he showed up at my clinic, I’ve been walking a tightrope. Each panic attack nearly sends me falling. Yet, I remain on my feet. Walla Walla might be right about my ability to face stress.

“I haven’t climbed on a horse in so long,” I admit. “I might need something to stand on just to get my ass over the top.”

Walla Walla smiles and looks in the trailer. “He has those steps for little kids.”

I think back to when I was a child and needed a mounting block to climb on the mighty beasts at my father’s ranch.

“I never wanted a pony,” I tell Walla Walla as he carries over the block. “As a kid, the other girls were always talking about their little horses. I preferred the view from a beauty like this one.”

With my thoughts focused on a happy time, I carefully step up to where I can throw my leg over the horse.

“The world feels different up here,” I tell Walla Walla who watches me like I’m all he can see. “Is there anywhere I need to avoid riding on this land?”

“Rose the Cat is inside. Most people are resting or gone. You have the property to yourself.”

“I wish you could ride with me.”

“I’ve never been on a horse before,” he explains, chuckling at the thought. “You’d spend your entire time teaching me what to do. My goal for today was to encourage you to reclaim what you lost. Right now, you seem calm.”

“I’m very aware I’m here with you,” I tell him as I stroke the horse. “I also feel excited like when I was a kid. It’s a weird feeling to be stuck between child me and the one thinking about your erection comment.”

Chuckling again, Walla Walla adjusts his jeans. “I should get you a hat from inside.”

Despite the sun on my fair skin, I shake my head. “I want you to stay close for a little bit more. I feel braver when you’re nearby.”

I admire the smile on Walla Walla’s face. My thoughts flash to him as a child living with a cold, abusive family. His parents tried to break his spirit, yet he had faith in himself.

Right now, he watches me regain my confidence to ride again. As a kid, I felt like an extension of my horses. I could ride fast and hard without fear.

However, this animal is a stranger, and I haven’t gone wild in a long time. My sensible, adult nature insists I take my time and adjust to the feel of riding again.

So focused on protecting the horse from my rusty skills, I forget everything else. My usual panic never returns to me. Whenever I’m nervous about falling or hurting the animal, I glance back at Walla Walla. His blue-eyed gaze fills me with confidence.

Ten minutes later, I’m riding in circles around the Pigsty’s backyard. Coco brings a hat to cover my flushed face. As the horse breaks into a trot, I can’t stop smiling.

My friend takes pictures and sends a video to Suzanne. I find myself remembering how I’d call my mom every night during my summers with Urick. She’d listen intently while I shared all the same stories. I talked endlessly about the horses. I must have been obnoxious, but she always let me gush over the animals as if it was her first time hearing about them.

I eventually get off the horse and offer him water and a treat. He’s such a beautiful animal, and I can barely peel my gaze from his shiny coat and dark eyes.

The only thing more beautiful in the world is the man who offered me this moment.

MARTIN

Austen is absolutely breathtaking while riding the horse. I see a new side of her. She finds the same freedom riding horses that I do riding my hog. We’re different yet the same.

Her melancholy returns as soon as Robert leaves with the horse. Her sadness drags her down until I ask about her horses at home.

Austen smiles at my question and leans against me. “I’m glad I let you touch me below the shoulders.”

Her words are said with such affection. Austen doesn’t open up to most people. Right now, she tugs away another barrier between us.

“My mom tried so many times to get me to ride,” she explains after showering and meeting me back outside. “I trust her completely, but I still panicked. I hope it doesn’t hurt her feelings to learn you were able to coax me get past my anxiety.”

“Your mom loves you something fierce, Austen. I get how her mind works. Suzanne’s probably so damn proud of herself for encouraging you to leave with me.”

Austen smiles warmly. “Yes, Suzanne will take full credit for my step forward today. She was right to believe in you.”

Since my parents never thought anything positive about me, Suzanne’s approval hits me right in the ego. I always figured my family disliked me because they sucked. Good people like my friends and even Ed Macready and Glenn Childs thought I was worth something. Suzanne’s a cool chick—powerful, beautiful, choosy with her praise. So, yeah, I win over the best people, and disappoint the losers.

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